New Challenge: Title Track
Tolkien's titles range from epic to lyrical to metaphorical. This month's challenge selected 125 of them as prompts for fanworks.

Maedhros, eldest son of Feanor, is captured by Morgoth and chained to the cliffs of Thargorodrim by his order. There is no hope of rescue until his dearest friend appears. (one-shot)

In the wake of his ravishing by Morgoth, Mairon, who was Arien, falls.

When Maedhros goes to parley with Morgoth’s army after Fëanáro’s death, Celebrimbor sneaks out to join him, and the consequences are dire.
Rated M for graphic violence (primarily torture). First three chapters were posted only on AO3 in 2024.

Five tents, he counts. Two dead guards. The fire within him burns so white, he wonders if it will leave anything of himself behind. Wonders if he can bring himself to care. Wonders, too, if this is what his father had felt like when he found the innards of their grandfather’s head spilt over his well-wrought front steps.
If so, perhaps Maedhros finally understands.
Maglor is taken. Maedhros handles it as well as can be expected, which is not at all.

“Forswear the oath, then!” Elrond raises his voice.
“The oath was sworn in the name of Ilúvatar,” Maedhros explains. “It cannot be broken, lest we be doomed to everlasting darkness.”
“Seems to me you're both f****d either way,” Elros says. “So what's the harm in asking?”
"Elros, I will not tolerate that language in my halls. For someone of your stature, it's unbecoming." Maedhros conveniently ignores the question.
The War of Wrath has started, and the kidnap family is coming to an end.
This is how the conversation went.

The king's natural philosophers are an elite group of men of science in Armenelos. When one of them is discovered to be (apparently) a woman in disguise, he is expelled from their ranks. Unfortunately, his youth and beauty draw the interest of the king, and there is no one with the power to protect him, not even the High Priest himself, although to the philosopher's surprise, Tar-Mairon tries...
A possible origin story for the Mouth of Sauron.

Drabbles created (and now polished) from February 15, 2025 Maedhros & Maglor week-themed Instadrabbling session)

Alphangil lives in Eglarest following the Dagor Bragollach, while Fingon remains in Hithlum. During a visit by Maedhros they find a way to bridge the distance.

Alphangil surprises her wife Fingwen and their lover Maedhris in the gardens of Barad Eithel. Fluff and smut ensue.

One wrong decision can make a world of difference. When one of the Fellowship makes the mistake, the consequences are so severe that only the Valar can repair it. But will they?
Glorfindel daughter's life is in Elrohir's hands and only she remembers th eir love for each other. The fate of Middle Earth depends on everyone walking their intended path.Torn between the past and the future, she is forbidden to warn them of any missteps.

Celebrimbor smiles into the dark, and wonders if this is what Nelyafinwë meant when he spoke of the satisfaction of resistance, no matter its price.
Sauron does not kill him in Eregion. This is his first mistake.

The hands of the King are the hands of the Healer, it's said. The King's Gift though is far larger than that.

Maglor's wanderings take him up the Anduin, where orcs find him and take him to Dol Guldur--where the Necromancer dwells.

And he would not fool either of them, clearly, claiming that it did not settle something within him that has been in uproar ever since they set foot on Beleriand’s shores.
“Go on,” Maedhros says, his voice gentle now. “Will you not do this for me, Káno?”
Maglor knows what Maedhros is doing, allowing him to pretend. And yet—
And yet. Maglor would not deny him anything, not any longer. He cannot.
Maglor struggles to give up control. Maedhros makes sure that he learns.

Two years before the Nirnaeth Arnoediad, Húrin and Huor journey from Dor-lómin to Eithel Sirion for a war council with their new allies from the East. A story about the stirring of hope and foreshadowing of woe. Well-peppered with humour.

Sauron has taken Celebrimbor as a prisoner in Ost-in-Edhil. Whump happens.

Fingon returns to Barad Eithel after a late-autumn hunt, finding someone unexpected with his wife. The night takes an even more unexpected turn for all three of them.

A collection of NSFW ficlets for the "Keep It Clean" bingo card of the 2024 Potluck Bingo.

There is shame in it, scathing-hot and heavy. If Makalaurë is honest, that only makes it more of a delight.
Everything in Tirion is holy perfection, white-pure and immaculate. This is just the latest desire of breaking something open, of getting to watch how it bleeds over untainted marble.
Maitimo has been avoiding him. Makalaurë deduces why.

Second Age 3261: Sauron prepares to respond to Ar-Pharazon’s heralds. Maglor doesn’t know how he fits into Sauron's plans.

Blowjob diplomacy.

"Would it help,” Maedhros starts, his tone pensive and his fingers pressing more firmly against Maglor’s jaw. “Would it help if I did not forgive you as easily? If I punished you for what you did not, could not do?”
It takes a moment for Maglor to understand, Maedhros pushing images into his mind—of rope and chains and bruised skin, of pain and pleasure mingling without release.
It makes him shiver, the thrill quickly followed by shame hot enough that he wants to flinch from it.
Maglor is unable to let go of his guilt. Maedhros gets inventive about it.

“A pity,” Fingon says, and his grin looks only a little forced. “Will you dance with me regardless?”
Maedhros first instinct is to say no. Elbereth, he should say no. But he looks at Fingon with his flushed cheeks, the braids coming loose, the banked hope in his eyes. The way the slant of his mouth reveals that he expects a rejection, and how he asks regardless.
Maedhros has always been terrible at denying him anything. It is why he had put half a continent between them, why he knew that coming here was a mistake before he so much as left Himring’s walls.
Maedhros believes that Fingon deserves something better. Fingon disagrees.